


Apply Directly to the Forehead

by ceilingfan5



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Cold Hands, Cuddling, Cuddling on the kitchen floor, M/M, Migraine, Pain, hurt comfort, they're in love, true dedication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 21:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13040241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5
Summary: Taako is no stranger to having migraines (and he should have seen this one coming.) What he didn't expect was the possibility that his boyfriend's death-cold hands would be the perfect remedy, or just how much Kravitz cares about his needs. Which is. Fine.





	Apply Directly to the Forehead

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on ailem (vilent sarcasm)'s headcanons about taako having migraines (via twitter) and my own miserable track record with them. I think he deserves someone who would hold him through one, and have the good grace to shut up, too. Kravitz's clammy hands finally come in handy.
> 
> leave a comment if you enjoy it!! i eat them for power!

Taako knows he's an idiot when the migraine hits. He saw the signs a mile away, knew he should have eaten lunch (and breakfast, for that matter), shouldn't have overdone it with the magic lights show or gotten too close to the fire or ignored the building tension between the base of his neck and his shoulders and hell. But he was stupid, and he did nothing, and he kept drinking death coffee and hanging out in the hustle and bustle and loud and out of nowhere, (which was a lie) a supernatural shovel struck him right between the eyes and shook the valuables out of his pockets too, for good measure. 

He just barely got home from the cafe, his brain screaming out of what was left of his eye holes, and dramatically laid down on the floor of the kitchen and resolved to stay there until the next end of the world. Surely it couldn't be too long, what with World War Seven playing Battle Hymn of the Republic between his corneas.

Thank some god Kravitz wasn't far behind the slam of the door and the shucking of Taako’s heels that, yet again, proved what a dumbass he was. Maybe he'd made it home not out of the grace of a deity but for the delight of one fascinated by torturing the living shit out of him. Cause that fucking tracked. 

“Um. Taako?”

Taako smushed his face against the cool tile and willed the planet to combust, or swallow him whole, or at least get a little darker, for fuck sake. 

“...Taako, are you okay?” 

Taako wanted to snap at him. Did he look okay? His soul had to be gushing out of a hole in his face, and also it was probably on fire, judging by the pain he was in. He didn't even have spell slots to deal with it, not that he would have had the focus to magic himself. Last time his ears had grown two feet and he’d had to tie Kravitz up for humming “Do Your Ears Hang Low" at him. Asshole. 

Kravitz knelt on the floor next to him when the only response he got was a low whine and leaned close, frowning and checking for injuries.

“Are you- Do you want me to take you to bed?” Dark sounded good, but Taako considered being picked up and moved and threw up a little in his mouth. 

“‘M’good down here, man,” he managed. 

“On the floor? Taako, that- it can't be very...comfortable.” 

“Naahhsscool.” 

“Taako-"

“Shhhhhhhhhhhmmm. Fuck your loud mouth, Michael Bay.”

Kravitz floundered, which was so him, and Taako patted the ground next to him.

“Water’s fine, baby.”

Well, then. Taako could just imagine him saying it. And then he sat and leaned against the oven, right there, and patted Taako on the back as gentle as can be. Taako’s eyes brimmed from the affection, and also the nuclear explosion going for broke in his poor fragile skull. 

You are not the death I was wishing for, he thought, but it didn’t quite make it to his mouth and he didn’t have the energy to laugh. He moved just enough (fuck the entire universe and whatever the fuck was still in his stomach) to rest his head on Kravitz’s lap. He resigned himself to die there. And to sweep more often. 

Kravitz sighed and pushed Taako’s hair back from his forehead and the most perfect realization washed over him. His hands are cold. They're so fucking cold. They've been cold the whole time, just for this moment in time and space when they were needed most. Taako took Krav’s hands by the wrists and mashed them against his eyes and let out a noise like a dying animal.

Kravitz, to his credit, didn't jerk away, but he was pretty surprised. 

“Taak- What are you doing? Don't hurt yourself-" 

Taako responded by pressing them harder against his traitorous face. Gods above, they're so cold, and the pain ebbed just a little and he thanked a goddess he only prays to when he wants shit. Which is pretty religious for him, and he’s met a goddess. 

“Is that really helping?” Bemused. Cute asshole. 

“Fuuck yes. Just jab your cold digits right into my orbital zone, sweet cheeks.”

“I- Look, I am not going to hurt you, Taako.” 

He had no clue. Wasn't it obvious that he was already hurting and the cold was at least snuffing some of his misery?

“Then at least- just- keep your cold on my head. AND, shut, the fuck.” 

Kravitz started to respond, but compiled out of some kind of dorky decorum only Kravitzes have. And he left one hand over Taako’s eyes and used the other to slowly, softly rub the top of his head, giving the type of scalp massage only a dead guy could. Appreciating the bases of his ears and working out the worst of the pressure that just kept coming. It all sort of came out of his mouth, making an awful keen like a tea kettle, but it was at least doing something. Taako appreciated him and his long, cold, perfect bony fingers more than he could articulate in perfect health, and in a short time of seven hundred thousand years, he slips into something a little more comfortable, like a coma. 

He comes to sweaty and achy and dry-mouthed as hell in a few hours, and Kravitz is still there, like he didn’t move a single artificial muscle. Taako laughs, honestly laughs. Something between relief and disbelief and adoration.

“Why didn't you get up?” 

“Well...you can't just get up when there's something cute on your lap, can you?” 

Taako snorts and sat up, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. 

“But yes, I am so, so very stiff. You were so miserable though, and I didn't know what to do- At least I could-” 

“Your cold hands worked wonders, hot stuff. Now I am sweaty and dying and gross, so I will allow you one, that's uno, singular, one kiss, before I hop in the shower and drown myself. As your reward.”

“Has your migraine broken, at least?” he asked instead, like some kind of pervert that cared about Taako, and his heart fluttered and his ears wiggled and he poked Kravitz in the chest to ward off any too-big ideas he might be getting. 

“Yeah,” he settled on, which was not as strong as he wanted, but shut up. “Enough I can magic it.” 

And Krav smiled like he really, truly, honestly is relieved to hear that, and Taako’s very empty stomach did a funky flip. 

“I'm so glad. It's been so long since you mopped in here, I thought-”

Taako pulled his wise ass into a hard kiss before he could finish his stupid goof, and Kravitz happily, oh so happily, reciprocated. He'd reward him when he was feeling better, but for now, Taako locked his appreciation in his chest for safekeeping. Suck on that, universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, honestly, let me know. If you wanna chat, hit me up on twitter (ceilingfan_5) or even discord. I don't do tumblr anymore but you can find my older works at fan5fics there. 
> 
> lastly: taako and kravitz are in love, they're so in love okay


End file.
